


A Moment For A Moment's Sake

by SoThisIsAThingIWrote



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoThisIsAThingIWrote/pseuds/SoThisIsAThingIWrote
Summary: Rey had got through the dying all right. True, three fingers on her left hand were now green, and there was a bright blue  and yellow swath down the front of her tunic, but she was reasonably certain the rest of her was still her appropriate colours. It was only when she had moved on to decorating that she felt the air around her prickle, that peculiar sensation of the rest of the world dropping away - and suddenly he was there, seated on the other side of her work table, datapad in hand and blinking in confusion at the multicoloured jedi across from him....then he'd snorted in amusement.In which there is Force-bond.....egg decorating.POST TLJ, PRE- TROS, not entirely canon compliant.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	A Moment For A Moment's Sake

**Author's Note:**

> In the spirit of the season I guess. Extreme artistic licence taken with Chandrilan culture (i.e I'm making stuff up). Also I'm assuming that carrots are, in fact, a thing in Star Wars land.

"Is this an Alderaanian tradition?" Rey finally asks, daubing another blob, blue and slightly less wonky this time. 

"Chandrilian, actually." His voice is absent minded in his concentration. "Most core worlds observe the equinox, but _this_ particular endeavor," he makes a vague motion to the items spread out between them, "comes from an old Chandrilian folktale."

_This_ is several pots of paint, bowls of dye, about two dozen eggs, and Rey's inability to say no when Leia gets that look in her eye. _A bit of fun,_ the General had confided to her, roping Rey into her becoming her co-conspirator. _A moment of pleasure for pleasure's sake. We could use it._

A moment of pleasure which involved dying and decorating eggs, which would then be hidden around the base for Rey's compatriots to find, with prizes for those who found the most, in a day of revelry snatched from the weary weeks and months of war. 

Rey had got through the dying all right. True, three fingers on her left hand were now green, and there was a bright blue and yellow swath down the front of her tunic, but she was reasonably certain the rest of her was still her appropriate colours. It was only when she had moved on to decorating that she felt the air around her prickle, that peculiar sensation of the rest of the world dropping away - and suddenly he was there, seated on the other side of her work table, datapad in hand and blinking in confusion at the multicoloured jedi across from him. 

...then he'd snorted in amusement. 

Rey ignored him. It was what they usually did now, when the Force insisted on bringing them together, pretending the other didn't exist until the Force gave up and severed the connection….until it tried again; an hour, a day, a week later.

Because it always tried again. 

So Rey focused intently on her egg and left him to focus intently on his datapad, but when she snuck a glance at him through her lashes not five minutes later (another regular occurrence during their connections -not that she would ever admit to it), she found him not looking down at some report, but watching her. His mouth was relaxed, his expression carefully schooled, save for the hint of warmth in his eyes. The datapad was gone entirely. 

Clearly he had no intention of playing by the rules this time.

Well then, neither did she. With a huff, Rey jumped to her feet, stalking over to his side of the table. He watched her come, no doubt half expecting her to draw her saber. 

Instead, she shoved an egg into one of his hands, a paintbrush into the other, and pushed several pots of paint across the table to him.

"If you're going to stare, you're going to work." 

Turning on her heel, Rey stalked back to her side of the table. She _should_ draw her saber, she _should_ curse and yell, and yet-

And yet, the Force is humming warmly around them. And yet, this connection felt, as it always felt, deep down where Rey tried to ignore, _right_ somehow. Good - despite who he is and who she is. And yet, he hadn't done anything but look at her with warm brown eyes.

So she sat back down, and grabbed another egg; and for a while they worked in companionable silence, until Rey's curiosity got the best of her. 

She finishes dabbing clumsy circles on her egg, and sets it aside, reaching for another. Ben, the lazy sod, is still on his first egg, cradled in his large hand and hidden entirely from her view. How could it be, Rey thinks, that hands that large, hands that can grip a saber and bring it swing down in a deadly arc, hands that can lift a full grown man from the ground, hands that can rain down fire and destruction, could cradle an egg that gently?

"Will you tell me," She asks softly, after another "what they believe on Chandrila?"

So he does, stories about fantastical celestial birds, and how the universe and all the planets came from their eggs; entire worlds springing forth from their fragile shells. How every year Chandrilans decorate eggs to celebrate the Equinox, and the turning of the cold sleep of Winter into the new life of Spring. 

Rey listens, letting his voice wash over her, and wonders about a small boy growing up on Chandrila. If he decorated eggs, if he ever romped with other children to find them. 

She doesn't ask. She knows he wouldn't answer. 

"Thank you," she says softly instead, when he finishes. "It's a lovely story." She frowns at the crooked stripe she's just finished painting. "Even if it seems like a waste of perfectly good eggs."

That elicits another snort. It's the closest thing he has to a laugh. 

Rey thinks of the upcoming celebration at the resistance base, and the laughter that is sure to flow easily and freely.

"Are you-" She pauses, "there must be a lot of core worlders in the Order, will you do anything -"

"-am I going to hide eggs around the ship for my officers to find? No."

Rey's lips twist. "No fun in the First Order."

He sighs. "Recreational hours have been extended, and-" he stops.

"And?"

Suddenly, the egg in his hand is the most important thing in the universe. 

" _And?_ "

"And I've ordered the ships’ cooks to add a dessert to the evening meal."

Rey perks up. "Dessert? What dessert."

He hunches his shoulders. "....Carrot cake."

Rey blinks. True, she was still familiarizing herself with food that didn't come dehydrated and pre-portioned, but even she knows - 

"A carrot is a _vegetable_ , Ben."

Ben opens his mouth to retort - but whatever answer he might have given is cut off by something beyond what she can see. His eyes flick over her shoulder, his mouth flattening. Already she can feel the bond start to thin, the connection between them growing weaker. 

Instead, he gets to his feet, and crosses to stand in front of her. Gently, he takes one of her hands and places his egg into it, curling her fingers over it. "For you."

And then he is gone. 

Rey is left alone, wondering what just happened. They didn't fight. He didn't demand for her to join him. She didn't demand he turn back to the light instead. They didn't rattle sabers or play tug of war over the fate of the galaxy. They simply shared a moment. 

A moment of pleasure, for pleasure's sake. 

Rey uncurls her fingers, and looks at the egg in her hand, her breath catching in her throat.

Across the delicate shell, he's painted all manner of green and growing things. Swooping trees, curling vines, delicate blossoms. Cunningly hidden in between are tiny birds, like the celestial birds in his story, each one different than the one before, as different as all the planets in the universe. 

An entire galaxy of green resting in the palm of her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Look, if he can do calligraphy, then he can paint.
> 
> Happy whatever you celebrate! Hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
